


Something to Know About

by Moonlitdark



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Oblivious Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28483278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonlitdark/pseuds/Moonlitdark
Summary: Potter was a ridiculously foolish (not to mention unobservant) person.  Draco could put up with that.  Most of the time.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Kudos: 95





	Something to Know About

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted a long time ago on Livejournal. So if it seems familiar, you've probably read it before.

The shocked expression on Potter’s face was not precisely what Draco had hoped for. Neither was the tentative, subtle shuffling of nervous hips, edging across the mattress. Draco had actually anticipated that Potter might move closer to him, not further away.

“I… didn’t expect that, Malfoy.” 

_Really_ not the response Draco had wanted. “Why not?”

“This… isn’t a relationship.” 

“Then what did you think it was?”

Potter fidgeted awkwardly before replying, grinding the hem of the sheet between thumbs and forefingers. “I don’t know… not that.”

“What then?”

“I just said that I don’t know.”

Defensiveness. Despite his disappointment, Draco struggled not to rise to it. “Didn’t you think that I’d want to do that?”

More fidgeting. “I hadn’t really thought much about it.”

Draco was tempted to place a calming palm over Potter’s twitching hands, but considering how badly his recent suggestion had been received, he thought better of it and kept a safe distance. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t have more to say on the subject. “Well, I did. I haven’t thought of much _else_ lately.”

“And what did you decide?”

What Draco had decided seemed relatively pointless right now. “Would it matter? Because you didn’t think about it all,” Draco whispered. Damn. He hadn’t meant to whisper. He’d intended to sound assured, confident, dismissive, even. Certainly not as vulnerable as his low voice had indicated.

“I didn’t say that I hadn’t considered it at all. Just that I hadn’t really dwelt on the issue.”

“Right. This doesn’t affect anything, anyway.” 

“Doesn’t it?” Potter asked. Wide eyes shone behind thick lenses. Draco detested the effect that they had on him. 

“Unless you want it to.”

“What do _you_ think that I might want?”

A tell-tale twinge in Draco’s right temple hinted at the beginnings of a headache. “I have no fucking idea, Potter.” That was better. Draco’s anger had crept to the surface, and that was good. Anger was always a sufficient mask for other unbidden emotions. 

“Don’t you want to know?”

Yes, Draco did. But he wouldn’t ask. Wouldn’t expose himself to the situation any further than he already had. “I don’t care. I only suggested that we go out. Just dinner. I really hadn’t predicted what a problem that would be.”

“You want to go out together. In public.”

Draco massaged his forehead, attempting to deter the upcoming throb. “I realise that it must be an extremely distasteful notion to be seen with me, but yes. That _was_ the suggestion.”

“Then people would know about us.”

“That would be the result.” It was like talking to a ruddy five year old.

“Is there something to know _about_ , Malfoy?”

Draco was very close to giving up. “I don’t even know what that means.”

“It means just what I said. Is there something to know about?” 

Evidently not. “I thought there was. But even I’ve been known to be mistaken, from time to time. Don’t worry about it.” Not satisfied with the small distance between their bodies, Draco slid from the bed and stood, debating whether or not he should be collecting his clothing. Disinclined to leave, he offered another suggestion to distract from his previous one. “We’ll stay here. As usual.”

Potter shifted his legs under the sheet, crossing his ankles. The confusion didn't appear to have left his eyes as he scrutinised Draco. “Where did you want to go?”

The scrutiny wasn't helping Draco feel more comfortable. “Wherever you wanted. There's a new restaurant which might be passable.” But he really wanted to move onto a more amenable subject. “Why are we still talking about this?”

“I didn’t think the conversation was over.”

“Well, it is.”

“It did come a bit out of the blue.”

And _that_ was the problem, as Draco saw it. “No, it didn’t. Isn’t that sort of thing usually a natural progression? Hell, I understand that some people even _begin_ with dates, Potter.”

“Dates?”

“Yes, _dates_. Going outside, being in plain sight of other people. Where members of the public and the world at large might even _interact_ with us. I can’t fathom why you’ve never heard of such things.” Sarcasm often worked even better than anger.

“You want to go out on dates with me?”

Comparing Potter to a five year old may have been too generous. “Try to keep up. What has this whole conversation been in regard to?”

“I’m… trying to process the idea, I suppose.”

This pointless discussion was wearing down Draco’s patience. The notion of Potter’s rejection was causing him to feel more anxious or nauseated than he cared for. “Maybe I should leave you here to process it on your own.” Draco didn’t need to stay for this. He was certain that he could manage to feel miserable enough about it on his own for the evening, rather than continue to be treated to the sight of that furrowed brow. “I’m going home,” Draco announced, scanning a heap on the floor for his trousers. He'd used to be much neater before fraternising with Potter. “I’ll speak to you tomorrow.”

“Do you want me to make reservations? At that restaurant you fancied?”

Potter's confusion was apparently infecting Draco. “Don’t… feel obliged.”

“Malfoy… we’ve been having sex for a while without any mention of wanting it to be anything else. You can’t just drop this on me and expect me not to be a bit shocked.”

“I’m sorry that it shocks you so badly,” Draco snapped, spotting a pair of black briefs in the pile which might even be his.

“Maybe not exactly shocked… but definitely surprised. I didn’t think that you…”

Draco reached both for the briefs and a little more patience. “You didn’t think what?”

“That… well, that you really… actually liked me.”

The underwear dropped from Draco’s startled grasp as he stared at the man on the bed in disbelief. 

“You didn’t think… that I liked you?”

“I wasn't sure.” 

Of all the stupid, thoughtless rubbish which had spouted from Potter's mouth in the past, that had to be the worst. “We’ve been shagging like fucking rampant rabbits for weeks but you didn’t think that I _liked_ you?”

“I knew that you enjoyed the sex, but… no. I didn’t.”

A horrible thought suddenly occurred to Draco. He tried to find a safe way to voice it. “Do you… often have sex with people who you don’t like?”

The dreaded reply might have come only a second later, but to Draco it seemed much longer. “No.” 

“Okay,” was the best that Draco could manage through the relief which was fuelling his pounding heartbeat. But Potter didn't think that Draco liked _him_. Potter was a ridiculously foolish (not to mention unobservant) person. Draco could put up with that. Most of the time. 

“But…” Harry continued, “you never liked me before.” 

“No, I didn't,” admitted Draco, his gaze lowering again to his discarded underwear. 

The lingering confusion on Potter’s face was starting to look more similar to nervousness as he asked, “What are you going to do now?”

Potter fidgeted and Draco shrugged, completely exasperated as he flopped back down onto the mattress. “With you, Potter? Who knows? But I'll think of something. In the meantime though, you've got dinner reservations to make. And it had better be somewhere suitably expensive. Somewhere that I'd go with someone I _like_.”


End file.
